


Playing Koi

by Metronomeblue



Series: imagine me & you- forever [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, Could be either, Established Relationship, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I mean there's a smidgen of plot, Jushiro Gets Some, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Sex, mostly as a framing device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 11:46:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13247577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metronomeblue/pseuds/Metronomeblue
Summary: "I am, for once, the very picture of health."





	Playing Koi

**Author's Note:**

> Listen... the fish puns... never get old to me.

You woke with the light. Pale winter sun streamed through the crack in the sliding door, the birds sang, the breeze skipped over your face. The world was quiet. You rolled over to find your lover watching you, brown eyes warm. The light that stabbed you in the eye merely glanced off of his silver hair and elegant face. He always looked so glad to see you, even if you’d spent the whole night curled up together. It made you feel so warm. So wanted. 

“Good morning,” Jushirou said softly, a hand brushing your hair out of your face. You sighed. Jushirou had to be some kind of wood nymph. Nobody was that wonderful and perfect so early in the morning.

“Hi,” you mumbled, feeling like a cave troll in comparison. He smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You look happy.”

“I am,” he agreed. “All the Division paperwork was finished last night. Barring an emergency, I have the day off.” A radiant smile split his face, and you smiled back. How could you not? He was so rarely free, and even more rarely well enough to enjoy it. 

“Captain!” A very loud voice called from outside of your room, effectively ending the moment. “Captain Ukitake!!” You closed your eyes to stop yourself from rolling them. Early morning it might be, but nothing tempered the volume of two temperamental third seats competing for attention. You groaned and rolled over, pouting. You knew there was probably something important happening, but did they always have to steal your lover right when he was finally relaxing?

“It seems I spoke too soon,” he sighed, shoulders slumping. You could almost see the tension returning. Curse them.

“If they come in here one more time I might knock them both out,” you murmured from your place in bed. Jushiro tried not to laugh at that, kissing your forehead. 

“Do your best not to harm my Third Seats, dearest.” His hand rested on your shoulder, and you took the chance to grab it and press a kiss to it.

“I will,” you agreed. “Wouldn’t want blood on these floors, anyway.” The knocking redoubled, and you let him go with a sigh.

“Duty calls,” he said wistfully, slipping out of bed to attend to the intruders. You rolled over again to watch as he tied off his hakama, slipped his kosode over his shoulders. You admired the finesse of his hands, the sway of silver hair as he pulled it from under his collar. He was elegant, gentle, kind, and so strong. And yours. All yours.

You stood, dragging yourself from bed to meet him. He kissed your forehead, and you wrapped one arm around his waist, pressing your face into his chest. He returned the favor, clutching you fiercely to him. You drew away after a moment, sleep no longer dogging you as it had. You never failed to say goodbye, in case this mission was his last.

“Be safe,” you said softly, straightening his haori. No matter how strong he was, or how many men he had to back him up, you worried endlessly. The world was cruel, after all, and such luck couldn’t possibly last.

“I always am,” he said, and you knew he was lying. You just nodded, handing him his swords reverently.

“I love you, Jushirou.” The words were true, but cold. A reminder that this softness was temporary, that battle awaited him outside these doors.

“And I you,” he murmured, forcing a weak echo of his smile from before.

He left, taking your heart with him.

You spent the next six hours alternately pacing, cooking, worrying, and making incoherent noises of despair and worry. 

When he returned, you were halfway through a batch of rice balls. Stress baking was not the most helpful of habits, but it beat the pacing by a mile and it meant nobody went hungry for the next week, so you supposed it evened itself out.

The sound of the door opening was a balm to your nerves, and you immediately began to wipe your hands clean.

“Before you ask, I'm perfectly fine.” Jushirou’s tone was not encouraging.

“You're back,” you breathed, relief suffusing your entire body. He looked up to see you, and the immediate lightening of his expression sent a pang of something soft through your chest. You rushed forward, flinging your arms around his neck. He was warm and solid, not a tremor in his touch today. He wrapped his own arms around you, and it was like a mirror to his leaving. You could feel the warm slickness of blood on his haori, but you knew if it was his he wouldn't be here. You breathed him in, green tea and the smoke of battle and fresh spring rain. A tinge of ozone hung in your mouth as you pulled away, your hands flat on his back, feeling the ripple of muscle under skin under fabric. “And you're alright?”

“Fine, dearest,” he assured you, giving you a tired smile. “It was merely a diplomatic emergency.”

“Diplomatic?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and wiggling your blood-covered hand at him. He winced.

“Well, mostly,” he muttered.

“Well, get that off,” you ordered, laying his swords down carefully, trying to avoid getting blood on them. “That’s the first thing.”

“No blood on these floors?” He joked, and you nodded.

“No blood on my floors.” Haori off, kosode untied, you began to reveal him. It always made you feel a little like a child unwrapping gifts when you helped him like this. You pulled one side off his shoulders, then the other.

“Our floors,” he corrected you, stealing a peck between layers.

“Oh good,” you teased him, undoing his sash. “That means you can clean them.”

“Is that right, dearest?” He purred, and you jumped as you realized he’d snuck an arm behind your back. “Because I believe we’ve found ourselves in something of a situation already.”

“Oh really?” You asked, as he drew you closer. “Because I’m of the opinion that cleanliness is very important.” You took a step forward, following the path he’d set you on and bringing your bodies flush. You could feel a damp heat where he pressed against your hip. You met his gaze, mesmerized by him. That silver hair fell over one eye, and a slight smirk rested on his fine lips.  “Still feeling alright?” You asked before coherence fled you.

“Perfect,” he said, the smirk flashing into a grin for a half second. He lowered his head to rest in your hair, that sly mouth trailing kisses along your crown. “Better, even.” He withdrew to raise one eyebrow. “I am, for once,” he said wryly. “The very picture of health.”

“Jushiro,” you breathed, struck by the desire in his eyes. Days like this were rare. You intended to take full advantage of it, and, it seemed, so did he.

“Love,” he replied, an edge of teasing in his tone. Before you could unscramble your brains enough to retort, he kissed you. That smirk tasted like tea and mint, and you could feel his mouth turn up when you melted forward into his arms.

Your hands rested on his bare chest, and you were suddenly reminded of his state of undress. Pulling back just enough to work, but not enough to end the kiss, you reached down to palm his erection, getting a lovely low groan in response. Dragging your hand up lightly, you undid the band of his hakama. He returned the favor, undoing the belt holding your own kosode closed. With quick hands, he slid it over your shoulders, and once freed, your hands immediately returned to his cock. He was leaking, achingly hard already, hot and solid in your hands, and you chuckled into his lips.

“Eager?” You teased, brushing your thumb over the head of him. He shivered. You could feel the wetness spreading between your fingers as you stroked him, spreading it up and down with pressure and care. He smiled, kissing you again, slow and lingering. His mouth opened to yours, pressing forward as if to take possession of you, to devour you. He pressed a quick kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“For you? Always,” he said, with more sweetness than perhaps the words called for. You smiled bashfully and twisted your hand over his base, feeling his thighs tremble against you. 

“Bed?” You asked, knowing the answer already.

“Absolutely,” he breathed into your mouth. You tangled your hand with his and, walking backwards,  pulled him back into your room. He kept kissing you, short, sweet, slow kisses with heat behind them, something low and smoldering in the pit of his stomach. And yours, as his every touch made you shiver, anticipate. You spun the two of you so the back of his legs hit the bed frame.

“On your back,” you directed him. He smiled at you, dropping down onto the bed, spreading himself out bit-by-bit and letting those long legs splay open, his flushed, pink-tipped cock leaking arousal over his stomach, his thighs. “Jushiro,” you murmured, “You’re so beautiful,” and the light flush that set itself upon his cheeks made your head spin. Beyond beautiful. Even now, his hair spread over the pillows and fell over his face, shadowing the pink dusting his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, high on his chest- he was stunning. Almost unearthly, like something bright and fierce dropped to an undeserving world.

“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said, one hand cupping your face. You moved forward as if pulled, crawling up his body to perch between his legs. You kissed him, tasting blood and mint and the tea he’d had last night that never went away.

He arched back, offering himself up to you, and you took his shaft in hand, drinking in the moans and whines and deep sounds he made as you stroked him once more, running your thumb over the tip to make him gasp, to make him shake like that.

“Jushiro,” you moaned, sinking down onto him. His hands came up to caress the outside of your thighs, gliding up to your hips, wrapping around your waist. They were hot, burning, a parallel to his cock, throbbing and heated inside of you, solid and deliciously long. It felt like it reached into you, hit places nobody else could. The most infinitesimal movement of his hips was like wonderful agony, every touch exaggerated, every breath long and full. You leaned forward enough to place your hands on his chest, just over his lungs. No pressure, no movement, just the warmth of skin-on-skin, and he let out a soft groan.

“(y/n),” he said, his face twisting with pleasure. “Please.” You leant down to kiss him, rising again and lifting yourself up off of him, his cock sliding out of you, inch-by-inch exposed to the cool air. He threw back his head and moaned, his hands falling to the sheets, unfurling like flower petals. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his breastbone, the closest thing you could reach. Soft lips on soft skin, the resistance of bone beneath. He responded by thrusting up into you, taking you entirely and grinding his hips against you, his hands regaining their grip, hooking in the hollows of your knees.

“Yes,” you gasped, moving your hips, rolling forward and back, up and down. Slow, circling strokes. He moved just as slowly, his hips meeting yours in soft friction, harsh delicacy. Moans and cries of his name choked out of your mouth, burdened with incoherence and overwhelming pleasure. “Jushiro,” you sighed, rocking forward to meet him. “Jushiro,” as his hips slammed into yours, the soft skin between his hip bones brushing over your clit over and over and over, the grinding driving you further and further towards the sun, the blinding light that was coiling in your stomach, hot and slow and thick with feeling.

“You’re close,” Jushiro observed, and you met his eyes once more, the sight of them blown wide with desire enough to push you that much closer to the edge. He thrust up into you harder, faster, driving into you with a force and intensity that struck through you. It made you feel opened up, hollowed out, free and caged all at once, trapped in his arms, impaled on his cock. He kept driving up into you, slow and long and more and more quickly with every moment. He reached up to run those long, soft fingers over your clit, drawing circles and stripes up and down, and then he scraped a fingernail across it  and you whimpered and shook, every nerve he touched coming alive with gold and silver. He thrust into you once more, harder than before, harder than ever, a hot, unyielding force inside you, all around you, filling you with hot, molten wetness. You panted and shivered above him, clutching at his arms, his chest, his face. He kissed you softly on the lips. 

“Jushiro,” you panted, chasing his mouth, kissing him in the afterglow. “Jushiro.”

“(y/n), “ he said in reply, giving you a radiant, beatific smile.  Which was promptly ruined by half a cough.

“Jushiro?” You asked, now long since used to things like this.

“I’m fine,” he assured you, but you noticed the tremor in his hand, the weakness in his smile. You sighed and lay down beside him,  wrapping your arms around his waist. He deserved some time alone.

“Sleep with me?” You asked softly, and the sweet smile that lit his face was worth doing anything for.

“Of course,” he assured you. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Have I mentioned that I now run a Bleach porn blog? yes, that's right. I have ascended. No more skittering around sex scenes.


End file.
